


Summer Evening's Epitaph

by BoxOnTheNile



Series: Storm [5]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Gen, M/M, Midsummer Festivals, Phoenix Jacobi, Tarot, i'm a few days late for Litha and i'm sorry, i'm still thinking way too hard about supernatural aus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 00:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxOnTheNile/pseuds/BoxOnTheNile
Summary: Canaveral has a fair.It's a gimmicky festival on Midsummer, but Maxwell begs the day off and drags Daniel with her.Daniel is at the height of his power, the Sun sharing its light for so long today, and he's giddy. The Inhumans of Canaveral are in full view, with Fae airing their wings and Mer in the Sea next to the fair, Shifters braving ridicule to flaunt ears and tails. It's loud and bright and overpriced andstarsDaniel loves Litha.





	Summer Evening's Epitaph

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Okay, the other major player has his reading, I can start the main fic now, right?  
> The three oneshots and the post-canon multichap unfinished in my google drive: You're hilarious, nile.

Canaveral has a fair. 

It's a gimmicky festival on Midsummer, but Maxwell begs the day off and drags Daniel with her. 

Daniel is at the height of his power, the Sun sharing its light for so long today, and he's giddy. The Inhumans of Canaveral are in full view, with Fae airing their wings and Mer in the Sea next to the fair, Shifters braving ridicule to flaunt ears and tails. It's loud and bright and overpriced and _stars_ Daniel loves Litha. 

He wants to shift forms himself, bask in the Sun and sing this swelling energy to the skies.

Kepler carefully snags his elbow before he gets lost in the crowd. "You're projecting," Kepler tells him. "Anything that sees auras is going to know what you are."

"It's Midsummer," Daniel counters. "Every Fire-Blessed being in the northern hemisphere is going to feel jittery. I can't _help_ it. There's a reason I called out sick every Litha."

"Litha," Alana teases, and Daniel shoves her like a child. He _is_ four, technically. 

"It's the name of the Sabbat!"

"I didn't realize you were _pagan_."

"I'm certainly not _Catholic_."

"That's obvious," a passing naiad mutters, shooting a glance at Kepler and winking at Daniel. "Be careful, little homunculus," she told Alana, "there's Sirens in the water, mind their Song."

"We'll keep her safe," Daniel says. He's not surprised there's Sirens near; if Daniel is at his most powerful, they're at their least, and likely hungry.

The naiad waves farewell as she fades back into the crowd. Kepler glares after her.

"I can protect what's mine," he mutters darkly, and Daniel pats his shoulder. 

Alana takes both their hands and pulls them into the festival.

 

* * *

 

The first being to recognize Daniel is a Fae—an actual Faerie, not the catchall humanity has been using for all Inhumans. Alana had pointed excitedly at a set of silver alchemical scales and Kepler, unable to enter the vendor's booth _because_ of that silver, had blatantly lifted Daniel's wallet to head to a nearby food cart.

The Fae bumps into Daniel before he can decide who to follow. His eyes widen as he reads Daniel's aura. "Bright One," he murmurs respectfully, and Daniel barely manages not to cringe. 

"Don't—" he starts, but the Fae is already gone. He's left staring after him, a little shaken.

'Bright One' is an _archaic_ term, fell out of use almost six hundred years ago. Last time someone called him that was the Draconic Council, when…

He shakes his head vigorously and shoves his way into the vendor's tent. Alana beams at him as she slides a box with her new scales in a bag. "Hey Peacock!" 

"Peacock?" the vendor echoes. Alana scrambles to come up with a convincing explanation, but he waves her off. "No, no, it just… a fortune teller dropped off a weird business card and then your name or nickname or… it's just a weird coincidence." He fishes a card out of his pocket to show. The Cheshire Cat grins up from the cardstock, a violet peacock feather pinned under his paw.

Alana leaned in. "Are there even peacocks in _Alice in Wonderland_?"

Daniel feels unsettled. That's too many coincidences today. "Can I have that?"

The vendor passes it over without complaint. "I think she set up on the other side of the fair."

Kepler is waiting outside. "Are those because I broke your other set?"

"Yes." Alana grins, unrepentant. Kepler rolls his eyes and takes Daniel's hand. Daniel tries to convince himself it's habit by now, with the way Kepler needs skin contact to Feed. He doesn't quite manage.

"You stole my wallet and you didn't even buy me food," he complains instead.

"I refuse to let you eat anything I saw over there. I don't think half of it is actually edible."

That's when Daniel is recognized for the second time. A wide eyed child breaks away from his mother, toddling halfway to Daniel before catching sight of Kepler and pausing. There's something cherubic in the child's face, sunlight reflecting off his hair like a halo, so Daniel crosses the rest of the space to scoop the boy off the ground and return him to his mother. His other parent has righteous fury behind their eyes, but they settle when Daniel tucks the child into their hands.

"Thank you, Bright One," the angel says, their human wife fussing over the little boy. "He's just celestial enough to see auras, just young enough that…"

"That a demon's aura could hurt," Daniel finished. "Sorry to distract him. And, uh. Please don't call me that."

The child tugs on Daniel's t-shirt. "Bird!"

"Not in this form," he corrects.

"I won't bless you, phoenix," the angel says, "but thank you."

"I'll keep my demon in line for the festival," he promises, and hurries back to Alana and Kepler. Kepler and the angel trade long, appraising looks, nod at each other, and guide their respective companions in opposite directions.

"Bright one?" Kepler asks, eyebrow lifted, once a few moments has passed.

Daniel groans. "The other reason I don't broadcast what I am. When people aren't trying to kill or use me, they put me on a fucking pedestal. It's an old, _old_ term of respect. That's the second time I've heard it today, I thought it died out six hundred years ago."

Alana pats his arm. "Probably didn't hear it much, then?"

"I mean, it was declining in use when I fledged, but…" he trails off at their alarmed looks. "I never told you how old I am."

"I assumed about Kepler's age," Alana admits, and Kepler glances down in something that's almost _embarrassment_. "Two or three hundred years."

Daniel chews on his lip. "Closer to nine."

They both stop in their tracks. Daniel turns, a little irritated, but someone from a nearby tent speaks before he can.

"Underestimated again, I see, Alice?"

And there it is: a culmination of the day's little coincidences. This is the fortune teller from the business card in his pocket, he knows. He doesn't even have to check. Daniel ducks into the tent without a word to his friends.

A woman sits at a table, shuffling a deck of tarot. 

"You're a little late," he says. "I haven't been Alice in eighty years."

"I wouldn't be late if you hadn't blown up a Nazi tank and gotten yourself killed," she answers. "However, I do believe the destruction of that encampment is worth a missed engagement, especially since you didn't know about the engagement to begin with. Besides, Dominik got to meet his wife a decade early because of it." She waves a hand dismissively. "Fate is back on track now anyway."

Daniel hates Seers. He hates Fate, with its few Fixed Events that can never be avoided. He's not pleased to be involved in one. And for a Seer, probably an actual damned Oracle of Delphi, to be tracking him since World War II? It's a world-changing Event.

Fabric rustles behind him as Alana and Kepler join him. The Seer hums, and points at the chair across from her. "Sit, Private Heshang."

"It's Daniel Jacobi, no rank," he corrects. 

"Daniel, my apologies," she says, and it's sincere. She sets her deck down. "Draw three."

"Don't touch that deck, Jacobi," Kepler orders, and Daniel twists to glare at him.

"If Apollo Himself has been trying to warn me about my Fate for eighty stars-forsaken years, I'm going to listen, _sir_." He turns back around and draws three cards, laying them in front of him.

The Eight of Staves. The Six of Chalices. The Ten of Swords.

"Ah," the Seer says. "That's infuriatingly cryptic."

"Aren't they always?" Kepler snaps. Daniel wonders when a Seer read _him._

This Seer ignores him. "A message from the heavens, a familiar face, and a violent demise."

"Well, fuck," Daniel says, looking at the last card. A red haired woman weeps on a tomb. "I guess I'm blowing myself up for the fourth life in a row."

"A friend," the Seer mutters, tracing the edge of the Six. A woman passes a cup to a man. She's familiar, and the card reminds him of warmth and joy and an easing of the constant bitter anger in his heart. Almost like Alana, but less like _family._

The Eight has him puzzled. A man with a letter, the staves represented by eight lilies in a vase. The sea lies in the background, the waves full of stars.

"Thank you," Daniel says at long last. It's traditional to thank a Seer, even for portends of doom. 

She nods, and her eyes grow distant. "Mind the Jabberwocky, little Peacock, for the Sun brings desolation."

Daniel silently gathers the cards, sets them back on the deck, and takes his leave. 

Back in the sunlight, Alana takes his hand. "Do you want to go home?"

"No," he says, "no, I think I want to get inordinately drunk." 

He doesn't ever throw out the business card. In the right light, he finds, the purple of the peacock feather and the Cat's eyes look red.

**Author's Note:**

> -Tarot meanings pulled from my deck instead of the Rider-Waite. My deck is [this](http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/wheel-year) one.  
> \- The eight of wands had lilies because lilies are a symbol of the goddess Hera. I thought about having a peacock deliver the letter, but that would have been some incredibly mixed symbolism.  
> \- Leechy, upon proofreading: i love the little boy  
> Me: I've just decided his mother named him Noah and his angel parent was Not Amused.  
> -Happy (late) Solstice everybody!


End file.
